


if we sleep together, will you like me better

by devereauxed



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff, Pre-Canon, angsty fluff, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devereauxed/pseuds/devereauxed
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night, and there was only one room left at the motel.





	if we sleep together, will you like me better

**Author's Note:**

> YES HELLO. 
> 
> Surprising everyone including myself I have ACTUALLY FINISHED A FIC. 
> 
> I'm feeling pretty rusty, so let me know what you think and I'll see if I can get back into it more.

“Is it really that horrible to be stuck with me?”

Rose tightened her hands on the wheel and didn’t answer as a flash of lightning illuminated the inside of the car. 

Luisa crossed her arms and looked out the window. “We need to stop. You don’t even have to talk to me, but your stubbornness is going to get us killed.” 

“I’m not being stubborn.” 

Luisa scoffed, and as if to reinforce her sentiment another bolt of lightning flashed suddenly, striking the tree beside them. The branch it struck cracked loudly and fell to the road, narrowly missing the hood of the car. Rose slammed on the brakes and Luisa turned to her and raised an “I told you so” eyebrow. 

“We passed a motel. Just go back, this ridiculous,” Luisa sighed. “The storm isn’t going to let up and in the dark we don’t stand a chance.” 

Rose sighed. “Fine.” 

“Finally,” Luisa muttered. 

The drive had already started on a low note with strained conversations and loaded silences only to dive even further as the rain started, then the lightning, and then the wind, followed swiftly by an hour of bickering over whether or not they should stop and wait out the storm. Rose had unfailingly refused to stop, insisting that they could get to the resort easily and wait out the storm in their _separate_ rooms, hoping Rafael and her father would make it eventually. 

Luisa turned away from Rose as the other woman took a deep breath before turning the car around and heading back toward the motel, hoping the hurt she felt at Rose’s obvious displeasure about being in her company wouldn’t show on her face.

* * *

 Rose pulled into a parking spot outside the motel and the two women stared at the ramshackle building in front of them, its vacancy sign flickering ominously.

“Looks…nice,” Luisa said hesitantly. 

“This is how horror movies start,” Rose replied. 

“Well we either die in a ditch or in a nice, warm room. I vote room, at least there we don’t have to battle the elements,” Luisa told her.

“I can fight rain if I have to,” Rose said stubbornly. 

Luisa rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”

They stumbled into the office at the front of the building, failing spectacularly at staying dry during their run across the parking lot. 

“You ladies picked the wrong night for a drive,” the old man behind the counter said, chuckling as they wiped the rain from their eyes. 

If looks could kill, Rose’s would have, so Luisa stepped in front of her, smiling widely. “It’s crazy out there! Thank god we found this place.” 

“Well you’re in luck, I have one room left,” he replied, pulling a key off a hook on the wall beside him. 

Rose stepped out from behind Luisa at his words. “I’m sorry, ‘one’ room?”

“Yeah, the storm has driven everyone off the road tonight. We’ve got a full house.” 

The two women looked at each other. Rose looked stricken, so Luisa gave a tentative smile, “It’s not a ditch?” 

Rose sighed and looked back at the man. “How much do I owe you?” 

“Room’s 79 a night, and we’ll need a card on file in case you throw some kind of crazy party and destroy the room,” he said. 

“Right, crazy party, first thing on our list,” Rose said sarcastically as she pulled a card out her wallet. 

The man took it from her with a good-natured laugh. “Well you never know.” 

Luisa attempted to make pleasant conversation to cover for Rose’s quiet hostility, letting out a small sigh of relief as the man handed over the keys. 

“You ladies are all set. Go on up the stairs right out here, and down to room 57,” he said, pointing.

“Thank you so much for your help,” Luisa said, nudging Rose with her foot until she gave the man a small smile.

As they turned to leave, the man called out after them. “Oh, one more thing! I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed.” 

They both froze. Luisa’s stomach dropped, and she took a sidelong glance at the woman next to her. Rose had her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in what she hoped was a deep, calming breath. 

It was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

Luisa stared at the closed bathroom door sullenly. As soon as they’d hauled their luggage into the room, Rose had made a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door and turning on the shower. And she’d been in there for nearly forty minutes. 

“No, it’s fine,” Luisa muttered, flicking through the limited channel offerings for the fifteenth time. “Not like anyone else might be cold and want a shower.”

She didn’t know how she was going to make it through the night. They’d never slept in the same bed – not since that first night, and that didn’t really count. Rose had been gone when she’d woken, and Luisa often wondered if she’d just waited until she’d fallen asleep and slipped away into the early morning. It would be like Rose to do something like that. 

Since then it had been quick trysts, a shower here, a closet there; she never got a full night. She never got a full anything. 

And now Rose was going to be right _there_. It was hard enough being around her at all now that she’d actually gone through with the wedding and vehemently dismissed the idea of any future encounters between them, but having her there asleep – vulnerable, soft – was almost too much. 

Rose had closed off to her since she and Emilio had returned from their honeymoon. It was like nothing had ever happened between them, and the only relationship they had was that of stepmother and stepdaughter. Some part of Luisa was convinced that Rose had done it to protect herself, she knew what they’d had, she had felt it, but there was tiny voice in the back of her mind that told her it was because it hadn’t meant anything to Rose after all – that _she_ hadn’t meant anything. 

But then she thought of Rose the night before the wedding. She’d shown up at Luisa’s door, wild, desperate, clinging to Luisa like she was the only keeping her alive. That couldn’t have been faked. 

Sometimes she wondered if all of that desperation and need and lust had just turned to hate. 

Luisa sighed as she heard the water turn off. At least it was only for one night.

Five minutes later, Rose stepped out of the bathroom wearing a very short, very skimpy black negligee. She avoided Luisa’s gaze and crossed her arms defensively. Luisa’s mouth went dry, equal parts aroused and angry. Rose looked stunning, her long legs bare, the silk softly hugging her skin, showing just enough of the body beneath it to tease, but Luisa knew that this hadn’t been packed for her. This wasn’t hers. 

“I didn’t have anything else,” Rose said defiantly. 

“Yeah,” Luisa responded, hoping her voice masked her warring emotions. 

Rose took a step toward the bed and Luisa immediately shot to her feet. 

“Shower,” Luisa muttered, pushing past the other woman. It was all she could do not to focus on how Rose’s wet hair had begun to curl, flooding her mind with images of their first night together, of running her fingers through hair that had dried just like that after they’d left the pool only to find themselves tangled in each other and the white sheets of a hotel bed. 

She shut the door quickly and leaned up against it, forcing herself to stop mentally tracing the soft curves of the skin that she knew so well. 

It was only when she stepped out of the shower fifteen minutes later and wiped the fog from the mirror that she realized there had been no steam in the bathroom when Rose had left it. 

* * *

With another deep breath, Luisa opened the door. Rose had curled up in the bed, the blankets nestled around her waist, her head resting idly on one hand. The strap of her negligee had begun to slip down her shoulder, giving Luisa an uninterrupted view of her collar bone and the freckles smattering her shoulders and chest. It was torture. This was everything she wanted, everything she wouldn’t let herself dream of, and it was like she was looking at it through a haze, only able to make out the shape of it without the reality of its details.

She could almost imagine what it would be like if she had permission to cross the room and reach for her, to let her lips trail along that collarbone, to map those freckles, to let that strap dip even further and have free reign of everything hidden under the thin silk of that negligee. 

But instead she got to stare, heart thumping, from across the room. 

Rose looked up when Luisa hadn’t moved from the doorway and raised a questioning eyebrow. Luisa let what she hoped was a mask of indifference slam back into place and flicked off the bathroom light before making her way back to the bed. Along the way she grabbed the excess pillows from the couch and threw them to the bed. 

“What are you doing?” Rose asked. 

Luisa didn’t answer but began placing the pillows in a line down the middle of the bed. 

“Seriously?” Rose scoffed. “You’re building a wall?” 

Luisa cocked her head challengingly at the redhead on the bed.

“You’re acting like a child,” Rose told her. 

“You hate me, I get it, we don’t have to do this,” Luisa said, pulling the covers up and sliding into bed, making a point to turn away from Rose. 

They sat in a tense silence, broken only by the quiet murmur of the television.

“I don’t hate you, Luisa,” Rose ventured quietly. 

Luisa scoffed. 

“I don’t,” the other woman insisted. She paused. “It would be easier if I did.” 

Luisa felt her heart skip slightly at her words. The want never waned, it simmered there beneath her skin, but she knew there was nothing for it. Rose was married – to her _father_. There was no resolution for this situation, at least not a positive one. 

“I don’t hate you either,” Luisa told her. “I probably should though.” 

Rose huffed a small laugh, murmuring something that sounded like, “You have no idea.” 

Luisa rolled those words around in her mind for a moment before deciding she really didn’t want to know what it meant. 

The silence was back, but this time it was less strained and more expectant. Luisa realized with a twinge of yearning that she just wanted to _talk_ to Rose. She missed her voice, not just the low whispers in her ear as Rose pushed her over the edge, but the teasing lilt, the defiant edge, everything that made it quintessentially Rose.

“Can I ask you a question?” Luisa ventured, and felt Rose tense beside her. 

“What is it?” 

“What the hell are we watching?” 

Rose laughed – a real laugh – and Luisa felt warmth spread through her chest. 

“Have you really never watched Antiques Roadshow?” Rose asked her. 

“No, because I’m not 90.” 

“Well, you’re missing out.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Luisa replied, relaxing into the pillows as they fell into a familiar rhythm. 

“Until you watch someone faint because the blanket they had lying around turns out to be worth half a million dollars, I don’t want to hear it,” Rose said.

“Is this really what you do with your time?” Luisa asked. 

“You think you’re shaming me, but I have no issues with my love for this show,” Rose said, haughtily. 

“I just didn’t take you for a PBS viewer is all.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, PBS viewership tends to fall into the senior citizen, children, and intellectual categories, so…” Luisa smirked. 

Rose scoffed. “I know how to get to Sesame Street, thank you very much.” 

It was said so indignantly that Luisa couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

They lapsed into a silence so comfortable that it made Luisa’s heart ache. She felt Rose looking at her out of the corner of her eye and fought the urge to look back at her. 

After a moment, Rose faintly said, “We should sleep.” 

Luisa gave a small nod. “We should.” 

She risked a glance at Rose, who was smiling softly at her. Their eyes met, and Luisa could see a spark of something that had been missing from Rose’s gaze recently. She forced herself to look away and pretended to fluff her pillow as Rose cleared her throat before rolling away to turn off the light and the television. She felt Rose scoot down under the blankets and kicked herself for her impulsive pillow wall. The soft warmth of her was so close, but not close enough. 

Then she felt a small tug on the blanket. Followed by another. 

She smiled. “If you steal the blanket, I’m putting my cold feet on you.” 

“If I remember correctly, someone built a wall that’s going to make that pretty difficult.” 

“This wall is no match for my icicle toes.” 

Rose chuckled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” 

Luisa grinned. She slid one hand along the pillow nearest to her head, testing the boundaries of her self-control. Suddenly she felt a hand close over her wrist, trapping it tightly against the pillow. Her mind went wild with excuses, fantasies, hopes, but after a moment, Rose simply loosened her grip and let her fingers tangle limply with Luisa’s.

“Goodnight,” came Rose’s voice in the darkness. 

Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Luisa replied, “Night.” 

Unwilling to let go of Rose’s hand, she waited, hoping to hear the other woman’s breathing even out, but it didn’t come. 

“Rose?” Luisa whispered. 

“Yeah?” Rose responded. 

The softness of her reply filled Luisa with something close to courage. There was something she needed to know. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“I’m not going to defend Antiques Road Show again. If you don’t like it, you’re wrong.” 

Luisa gave a soft laugh. “No, not that.” 

“Then what?” 

“Did you take a cold shower earlier?”

She waited, holding her breath, fully expecting Rose to pull away, roll over, and return to her steadfast detachment. 

But after a moment, Rose simply said, “Yes.” 

Luisa’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Why, exactly?”

“You know why, Luisa,” Rose responded. Her voice was almost playful, and Luisa felt her skin tingle lightly at the sound of it. 

“I don’t. I think you should explain it to me. Preferably in detail. With a lot of embellishment. Maybe some hand gestures.” 

Rose laughed softly, tightening her fingers around Luisa’s slightly. “I think you should sleep.” 

Luisa sighed. “You’re no fun.” 

“I’m plenty fun.” 

“Prove it.” 

“ _Sleep_.” 

Luisa smiled to herself as she nuzzled her face into the pillow beneath her head. She had no idea what they were doing, but being with Rose felt good, and that was something she rarely felt these days. 

“Sweet dreams,” Luisa said.

“You too,” Rose replied, her voice laced with something like a tease, but almost like a promise. 

Luisa drifted off to sleep, warm and happy, her fingers still laced with Rose’s.

* * *

It started the way it always did. She was lost, and it was dark. She couldn’t see anything, but she knew she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. 

Suddenly, with a rush of sound and color, she was surrounded, people shoving against her; she couldn’t see their faces – she wasn’t sure they had them – but she could feel them against her, their bodies pressing in on her then pushing away. 

She was looking for someone, but she couldn’t remember who. She needed to find them – it was so important – 

And then there she was. 

Wavy, brown hair, a floral sundress – her breath caught in her throat. _Mami_. 

She started pushing her way desperately through the crowd, shoving against the mass of bodies surrounding her, but no matter how hard or how far she pushed, she never got any closer. She tried to scream, but nothing would come out. She felt the screams leave her throat, but when they made their way into the air around her they fizzled, fading into silence. 

She silently screamed her throat raw. 

Frantically, she turned to the crowd, grasping onto them for help, but they disintegrated beneath her fingers. She saw them with her own eyes – they were real, they had to be – but they weren’t, they faded as soon as she reached for them. 

No one was real. 

 _Oh god. Not again._  

She twisted, grabbing wildly at anyone she could reach, increasingly terrified as everyone she reached for faded into nothingness. 

And then there was a voice; it was muffled but there nonetheless. Something about it sparked hope within her, lit a warmth deep in her stomach. It was like a beacon. The voice called for her and she stumbled toward it. She had to get there, it was her only hope. 

Then – 

She woke, gasping for air. Her hands flailed, finding purchase on the arms of someone reaching for her. 

“Luisa?” 

“R-Rose?” she panted. “What–?” 

“Come here,” Rose said, kicking the remaining pillows between them off the bed and pulling Luisa toward her. Luisa clung to her, trying to catch her breath, tears drying on her cheeks. 

“I couldn’t find – nobody was –“ she gasped. 

Rose hushed her, pulling Luisa against her more tightly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

Luisa pressed her face into the other woman’s neck. “I’m not okay,” she whispered. 

Rose didn’t say anything, but after a moment she reached up and cupped the back of Luisa’s head, gently tangling her fingers in her hair. Luisa breathed deeply, losing herself in the scent of Rose. Traces of her nightmare lingered, making her question if this was even happening, but Rose felt solid beneath her and she held onto that sturdiness with everything she had. 

She was real. It was not nearly enough, but it was also everything. It made no sense at all, but she felt safe in her arms. The demons still lurked, they taunted her, teasing her with thoughts of loss and helplessness and terrifying uncertainty of being unable to trust her own mind, but every stroke of Rose’s fingers through her hair, every beat of her heart pounding against Luisa’s skin pushed them further and further away. 

There was a ferocity and a protectiveness to Rose's grasp that Luisa hadn't expected, and inexplicably, despite their situation, despite their past, despite every confusing moment of their relationship, she felt safe.   
  
She lost herself in the feel of Rose's fingers in her hair, the hand on her back, and she let herself fade into the comfort she so rarely received. Her breathing evened out, her pulse slowing, the fear that had remained after the nightmare seeping from her mind.  
  
She was never really sure if she had fallen asleep or not. All she knew was Rose's hand on her back took on a distinctly possessive edge and began to wander. It was like waking from a dream within a dream. The other woman's breath in her ear became heavy and ragged, and Luisa, eyes closed tightly against the possibility that this wasn’t real, tipped her head up, pressing her face against Rose's neck, deliberately and slowly dragging her lips softly against the skin. In a heartbeat their lips were pressed together, and Luisa's world narrowed entirely into that feeling and that moment. Nothing else existed anymore.   
  
Luisa deepened the kiss, pushing herself up and over Rose who yielded to her, letting her push her down into the mattress.   
  
After a long, deep, languid kiss that let her reacquaint herself with every inch of Rose's taste and feel, Luisa pulled back, needing to open her eyes, needing to see her, even if it meant she woke up from whatever it was that was happening.   
  
Rose lay beneath her, lips swollen, hair mussed, eyes somehow both desperate but concerned. Luisa reached up to run the back of one finger down her cheek. As she stared down at her, Rose swallowed heavily. She almost looked scared.   
  
It made Luisa feel powerful. So often she felt like she was being dragged through whatever this was, yanked and stumbling, grasping onto whatever piece of Rose she could reach. But she was beginning to realize that it was actually the opposite - Rose couldn't resist her. She tried, she put up a front, acted unconcerned and detached, but the reality was that as hard as she tried, Luisa got under her skin. It was the most satisfying feeling Luisa had had in a long time.   
  
She smiled in triumph and Rose's eyes widened slightly. She'd been caught, and she knew it. Luisa felt Rose try to push up, and knew that she was trying to run, trying to get away from the unintended truth of what had just happened, but Luisa pressed her back into the mattress.   
  
Slowly, she leaned down and kissed the other woman – so, so softly, with endless restraint and tenderness. Rose shivered beneath her, clearly caught between the desire to let go and the desire to flee, but then, suddenly, she snapped. She surged up against Luisa and tangled her fingers desperately in her hair, crushing her body up into her.   
  
As Rose's restraint snapped, Luisa let hers too. She took her lips in a bruising kiss, pressing the other woman roughly into the bed with her hips. She nipped her earlobe before sucking roughly at her neck, pulling back just shy of leaving a mark. She wanted to claim her, leave that evidence, force her hand, but she knew that if she did she’d likely lose her forever. So she toed the line, giving small nips and light sucks to the pale skin as Rose grasped and writhed against her.  
  
Luisa took great delight in ripping the negligee. It wasn’t just that she needed it off of her, she wanted it destroyed. Triumph sparked through her as she tossed the mass of unusable fabric to the floor, before she slid her hands across the soft warmth of Rose’s skin beneath her. 

For someone so formidable, Rose was always so compliant under Luisa’s hands. She twisted, stretched, and writhed exactly as Luisa wanted her to, arching up into her like she was an instrument Luisa was so very good at playing. 

She placed heated and hurried kisses across the newly displayed skin of Rose’s chest, overwhelmed at the taste and smell of the other woman infiltrating her senses. 

Unbidden, words came, whispered softly in breaths between rapid kisses. 

_“I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you”_

She felt Rose’s breath catch at the words, her nails digging into the skin of Luisa’s back. 

Rose opened her mouth hesitantly. “I-“ 

She pushed up and quickly captured her mouth, cutting her off. Luisa didn’t want to hear whatever Rose was going to say. Whether it was the truth or a lie – it didn’t matter anyway. 

Luisa cupped her hands around Rose’s neck, tilting her chin back and nipping lightly at the skin of her neck before sliding down to her chest. Part of her felt at peace, like she was back where she belonged, but the rest was desperate and hungry, looking to consume every part of Rose that she could before she lost her chance. 

Under the onslaught of Luisa’s hands and lips and teeth and tongue, Rose began to fall apart. Her gasps became moans which transformed into silent, arching, frantic need. 

Unexpectedly, as Rose grasped at her, Luisa realized that the other woman’s hands were shaking. It wasn’t a tremble like the one that Luisa was drawing from the core of her. There was something vulnerable about it, like Luisa had broken past every barrier Rose had ever built, even past the ferocity and the passion to something real. 

The thought filled her with a deep ache and, momentarily overwhelmed, she stopped, resting her forehead softly against the heaving skin of Rose’s chest. Rose shuddered beneath her, and Luisa took a deep breath, trying to still her heart and her mind, both of which were trying to take her to places she knew she couldn’t go.

She placed an infinitely fond kiss to the center of Rose’s chest before lifting her head, hazel eyes meeting blue, and she knew that this time, just this once, it wasn’t lust that would take Rose over the edge – it was tenderness. Her eyes locked to Rose’s, she placed another soft kiss to the other woman’s skin, licking a swift trail up her chest, and taking her lips in the gentlest of kisses. Rose snapped, her body going taut, legs and hands gripping Luisa tightly. 

And then it was over. 

Rose lay beneath her, panting, her nails digging into Luisa’s back as though to keep her close. She pressed kisses to the other woman’s forehead and cheeks, something she knew she would never allow under normal circumstances. 

“Luisa,” Rose whispered. “Don’t.” 

Maybe under any circumstances. 

“I want to and I will,” Luisa replied, resting her forehead against Rose’s. 

Surprisingly, Rose gave no rebuttal, simply moved to cup Luisa’s face in her hands, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. As they lay there, their breaths synced, and Luisa felt herself begin to drift off. She slid to the side, pulling Rose’s back against her and tangling her legs with hers. Rose tried to roll away, put some space between them, but Luisa held her tightly. 

“Just sleep,” Luisa said quietly.

She waited until she felt Rose relax, her breaths even and slow, before she let herself follow, her chest tight with a mix of hope and fear.

* * *

Luisa woke slowly, opening her eyes only to swiftly push her face into her pillow.

Sunlight. The storm had passed. She sighed, letting herself wallow in the smell of Rose on the sheets before she knew she would have to get up and return to the reality where Rose was distant and untouchable.

She heard the door to the bathroom open and turned her head slightly, cracking one eye open. Rose was dressed, her curly hair piled into a tight bun on her head. 

“Hi,” Luisa ventured. 

Rose’s gaze flicked to her as she fastened her watch around her wrist. “Good morning.” 

There was a twinkle in her eye that caused Luisa’s breath to catch in her throat. 

“You should get ready, we need to get back on the road,” Rose continued. 

Luisa sat up, pulling the sheet around herself, watching Rose warily. “Did you steal all the hot water?” 

“I think a cold shower would be redundant at this point, don’t you?” Rose replied. 

Luisa smiled. “Yes, it would.” 

She stood, letting the sheet trail behind her as she wrapped herself in it, taking several deliberate steps until she was standing in front of Rose, letting her see the challenge in her gaze.

Without another thought, Luisa dropped the sheet. Rose didn’t flinch. 

“Seems like you a cold shower might do you some good,” Rose said.

“No,” Luisa smirked. “Not a cold one. Care to join me?” 

Rose reached out a hand and ran her fingers softly across the skin of her stomach before leaning in and whispering into Luisa’s ear.

“Maybe tonight.”


End file.
